


if we were the last

by lauraxtennant



Series: Broadchurch [5]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-30 01:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10866060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraxtennant/pseuds/lauraxtennant
Summary: Set a few months after the series finale. Hardy and Miller go the pub for a colleague's leaving drinks, end up talking to only one another.





	1. Chapter 1

Hardy leant back in his chair and rubbed at his eyes under his glasses. It had been a long day, mostly spent reviewing CCTV footage to do with their latest case, and it had led them exactly nowhere. Waste of time.

Miller had disappeared some time ago; where to, he wasn’t sure, but her coat was still hanging on the back of her chair so she couldn’t have gone far.

He stood up and stretched, then made his way to the kettle, filling it enough for two mugs.

“What are you doing?” Miller asked.

Hardy reached for the teabags and, without turning around, replied, “What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“Well, I don’t want one - I’m off for the night. Aren’t you coming?”

“Coming where?” he asked, baffled, as he turned and leant against the counter. His eyes widened as he took in her change of clothes. “What are you dressed like that for?”

She was wearing some skinny black jeans, heeled black ankle boots, and a purple silk blouse that dipped enough to show a bit of cleavage. He was bewildered.

“Charming,” she snorted, then reminded him, “SOCO Brian’s leaving do? At the pub?”

“Oh, right.” He blew out a long breath, irritated by the mere thought of a social occasion. He was knackered; if she wasn’t staying with him at the station to go over the case, then he’d rather be at home with Daisy than standing around in some noisy pub.

“You forgot.”

“Clearly.”

“You are invited, you know. Think he’s got a soft spot for you, really.”

“He calls me Shitface!”

“We’ve all called you that,” Miller said, waving her hand dismissively. “And I’ve called you worse.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Come on, come for a drink, see him off.”

“That’s a lot of effort for Dirty Brian, isn’t it?” He nodded at her, letting his eyes drop momentarily to indicate his meaning.

“Not really,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “Why, do you think I look nice?”

Hardy squinted at her. “Well, you don’t not look nice.”

She pulled a face at him. “Great, thanks for that, lovely compliment. So, you coming or what?”

“Leave me be, Miller...it’s not really my sort of thing.”

“Fine, be boring, sit here all night watching traffic cam footage and feeling sorry for yourself. I need a drink.”

She went to fetch her coat, her usual orange thing that clashed terribly with her fancy top, and it took approximately forty seconds for him to change his mind. He called after her to wait up, and they drove over to the pub in his car.

::

At the party, Hardy was gratified by the fact that Miller stuck with him, rather than leaving him to mingle on his own. He’d never been very good at that. They stood at the bar for a little while, her with a whiskey and coke, him with a beer (he tried to get a glass of water, but Miller bullied him into conceding to just one pint), and watched their colleagues dancing and singing and generally making fools out of themselves.

“You’re such a grump,” Miller laughed, catching his undoubtedly unimpressed expression.

“It’s just not my scene.”

“So you’ve said. Loosen up a bit, will you?” She paused, then added, looking mischievous, “I’d love to have seen what you were like on that date of yours.”

“What date?”

“You know, a few months back. You never did tell me how it went.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you think I was ever going to?”

“No.” She nudged his arm with her elbow. “Go on, though, tell me now.”

“No.”

“Did you ever see her again?”

He sniffed. “No.”

“Did you scare her off?”

“I expect so.”

“What did you do?”

“Miller.”

“Hardy.”

He shook his head at her. “I’m not talking about this.”

“Go on, please, I could use a laugh.”

Hardy rolled his eyes.

“Did you go out for dinner?”

“Yeah.”

She gestured for him to go on, and he sighed, resigning himself to it.

“It was nice. I walked her home, made a few awkward comments, neither of us bothered calling after.”

“Did you kiss?”

“Miller, I’m not doing this, talking about - about - all that, as though we’re teenagers.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“No!” He sighed. “No.” He rubbed at his neck, feeling awkward. “Can we sit down?”

“There’s a beer garden out the back. I’m gonna order some chips and get another drink.”

Once she’d placed her food order and retrieved her drink, they made their way out the back, and he finally felt a little less stifled. It was busy outside too, no tables were free, but at least they had some fresh air. They stood and chatted briefly about their case, and then about Tom and Fred and Daisy, and then, as quickly as it arrived, the reprieve was over, and she was back to quizzing him on his failed romantic endeavour.

“So why didn’t you call her?”

Fortunately, a couple got up to leave in the far corner of the patio, and he made a beeline for the table as it became free.

Miller persisted, “Oi, don’t ignore me.”

He sat down heavily and groaned. “Miller, can you drop it?”

“I’m just curious!” She sat opposite him, and her knee accidentally bumped into his under the table.

“Nosy, more like,” he said, with a snort. “And why are you so interested, anyway?”

“Thought for a minute there you were gonna get something in your life to perk you up, that’s why.”

“What?”

Miller took a sip of her drink, and tilted her head contemplatively. “Well. I’ll deny I said this tomorrow. But maybe you deserve a bit of happiness.”

He felt a bit touched that she would say so, but didn’t let it show. They didn’t have that sort of friendship. “Oh.”

“Are you at least a little bit happier, here in Broadchurch? I mean, happier than you were back in...well, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“But you’re lonely.”

She was looking at him so frankly, eyes soft and mouth pressed into a sad smile. It wasn’t exactly pity he saw there, in her expression; it was more like she was commiserating with him, agreed with him, felt it too. Kinship, or something.

“Isn’t everyone?” he asked, breaking her gaze and looking out over the garden.

“You should call her.”

“Nah.”

“I know it’s been a couple of months but she might still be interested. How’d you meet her, anyway?”

Hardy felt his cheeks heating up, and any goodwill he felt towards Miller dissipated at the thought of her reaction to the truth. Someone brought out her chips, which she dove into instantly.

“Hardy?” she prompted, and threw a chip his way when he remained silent.

He threw the chip back at her and steeled himself, meeting her eyes, styling it out with brazen courage. “Daisy set me up on one of those app things.”

“What?” Her lips turned up at the corners, though she was obviously trying not to laugh, wanting all the facts before descending into hysterics. “You - what, hold on, say that again?”

He crossed his arms to rest them on the table, and held her gaze. “A dating app. Tinder.”

“You… you…” The dam broke, and Miller burst forth, laughing her head off. “Oh my god.”

“Oi, shut up,” he said, but without much heat to it.

A few of their colleagues, who were outside having a smoke, glanced in their direction, but Miller often got the giggles, these days, so they paid them no mind and soon went back to their own conversations. It probably bemused them that he would inspire laughter in anyone, let alone Ellie Miller, whose life had been turned upside down not so very long ago, but there it was. He made her laugh, now, that was a thing, and it was usually involuntarily but he enjoyed it all the same.

Miller wiped at her eyes as she got herself under control. “Have you been on any more Tinder dates that I should know about?”

“No.”

“I thought Tinder was mostly just used for young people hooking up! Daisy must agree with me, thinks you need - ”

“I’d rather not think about why Daisy thought it was a good idea, thank you.”

“I was just gonna say, she must agree you need cheering up.” She offered him a chip, which he declined, then continued, “Did your date - wait, how old was your date?”

“Zoe. She was - er. Younger. A bit younger. Not much.” He sipped at his beer.

Miller shook her head. “She was loads younger wasn’t she.”

“I don’t know. Thirty...something. I don’t know. Look. It was daft, I know that. And I realised it that night, remembered that I’m no good at - at flirting and - and - that stuff.”

“What stuff?” Miller grinned.

“You know. Things that lead to - to - ”

“Intimate situations.”

“Yeah.” He groaned and rubbed his hand across his face, feeling a bit mortified. “Can we please stop talking about this?”

“No, I like this, look at us, opening up and talking about sex and relationships, just like mates should,” she said, smile on her face, innocent as anything.

“Are we mates?”

“Yes. Aren’t we?”

“I dunno.”

Miller rolled her eyes. “You can be such a knob sometimes.”

“It’s just, we work together. I like to keep things...separate.”

She blinked at him.

He felt defensive. “What? I just mean, conversation topics. Obviously we’re friends, I suppose. But we’re not friends who talk about this stuff. All right? What are you looking at me like that for?”

“You like to keep things ‘separate?’ You were married to your DS, once!” Miller laughed.

“Yes, and that worked out so well,” he retorted sharply.

“Oh, calm down. Fine, change the subject if you want. Just when I thought we were starting to bond,” she said, shaking her head.

“How is you laughing at my failed attempts at romance us bonding?”

“I’m hardly good at it, you can laugh at me too, I won’t mind.”

“Oh, has Tom set your profile up on Tinder too?” he said, voice heavy with sarcasm.

“Don’t be daft, as if I’d let him do something like that,” she said, and laughed again.

“You see,” he said, gesturing at her with his pint glass. “This is just you, taking the piss. Where’s the sympathy you’re so famous for, eh?”

She smiled, took a sip of her drink, ate some chips, then floored him with an admission. “I had a one night stand during Joe’s trial.”

“What, really?”

“Yeah.”

“With who?”

“Your voice just went all high-pitched. Is it really so hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, ta.”

“No, I don’t mean - I just meant, it doesn’t seem like something you would want to do.”

“Yeah, it was a mistake. It was on a night out with Claire, would you believe.”

“You had sex with Claire?” he joked.

“You’re so crap at making jokes.”

“I know. Sorry. Carry on.”

“It was a stranger, didn’t mean anything. Felt rubbish after.”

“Oh.”

“I tried to go on a couple of dates, a while back.”

“When?”

“Oh, before you came back to Broadchurch.”

“No joy?”

Miller shook her head. “Didn’t feel right. I wasn’t ready.”

They both looked down to their glasses, pondering that for a moment.

He suddenly felt compelled to ask, “Do you feel ready now?”

“I dunno. I miss…” She closed her eyes briefly, and didn’t continue.

“I miss it, too,” he murmured. He cleared his throat, nervous and embarrassed but strangely desperate for her to know, “Being with someone. Not - not what we were talking about just now, but - ” He struggled to explain. “I’m no good at the early stuff, the small talk and the flirting and the - the seducing - ”

Miller snorted out a laugh. “I never would have guessed.”

“Oi. I s’pose I’m not very good at the middle stuff, either, or it would’ve worked out with Tess. But I wish I could just skip all the early stuff and get to the middle.” He sighed. “Does that make any sense?”

She smiled at him, properly now. “Yeah, it does.” She offered him her chips again, which were nearly all gone; it never ceased to amaze him how quickly she wolfed down food. He took a couple, just to placate her.

They sat there quietly for a minute, and he soon started to feel uncomfortable. He looked down at his beer again, which he’d only half finished, so he couldn’t use that as an excuse for his over-sharing.

“Right. Time to go.” He stood up, and Miller blinked up at him, looking confused.

“What, already?”

“Yeah. I sent a text to Daisy earlier, said I wouldn’t be long. Night.”

He made his way through the garden, hearing Miller scramble to catch up, then back through the crowded pub and out to the car park.

“Hang on!”

He whirled around to face her. “Just ‘cos I’m going, doesn’t mean you need to.”

“I know, but - ”

“You stay and mingle, do that whole thing, wish Brian best of luck from me, all that.”

“No, you’re giving me a lift home.”

“Can’t you get a taxi?”

She pulled a face. “No, ta.”

He reflected that she’d been put off that particular mode of transport these past few months, ever since the Trish Winterman case.

“Wait in the car, I’ll say my goodbyes.” She headed back inside the pub, and he heaved a sigh, but got in the car to wait for her. She was in there ages, giving him plenty of time to stew over what he’d said tonight, which made him feel all the more vulnerable and grumpy about it.

When she finally got in next to him, he muttered, “You took your time.”

“I barely got to talk to anyone tonight, you can give me a minute or two to say goodbye.”

“Not my fault you sat outside interrogating me about my love life.”

“You’re calling it a ‘love life?’ Bit of an exaggeration, don’t you reckon?”

He twisted in his seat to look at her. “Was that called for?”

“Oh, just start the car.”

Hardy squinted at her. She squinted at him right back, clearly amusing herself by doing her best impression of his narrow-eyed glare. Then, when the silent warfare had endured a beat too long, she stuck her tongue out him, as though she were wee Fred’s age, and he had to start the car and reverse out of the parking space so that she wouldn’t see his smile.

As he drove them away from the pub, he caught sight of her letting her hair down in the corner of his eye. He glanced at her as she pocketed her hair tie and leant her head back against the headrest. When she looked at him, he returned his gaze to the road.

“Hardy, can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“Oh, go on, you’ve been so chatty tonight.”

“Aye, too chatty.”

“Do _you_ think I’m ready?”

He frowned. “What?”

“Do I seem like I’m ready, to you?”

“What’re you talking about? Ready for what?”

“Ready to, I dunno, move on. Like we were talking about before.”

“How should I know?”

“Why do you sound so defensive?”

“I’m not, I just don’t know why you think I should have an opinion on that.”

“It’s not like I’m asking you for advice, I just want to know if you think I am, you know, sending the right signals.”

“Sending the right - what? To who?”

“To men, obviously!”

He was silent for a moment, and then, when they stopped at a red light, he looked at her, assessing her body language. “When you went back inside the pub...did Dirty Brian say something to you again?”

Her head jerked back in surprise. “No. Why’d you think that?”

“I dunno.” He eyed her suspiciously.

“It’s green.”

“Hmm?”

“The light’s green, you can go.”

“Oh, right.”

They went silent again.

“What’s your problem?” Miller burst out a little while later, sounding incredibly frustrated with him.

“I haven’t got a problem. I just don’t know what you want me to say. Are you asking me if you look...available? Because I don’t know what that means, or looks like, really, so I think it’d be inappropriate for me to say. Or are you asking me if I think you’re making progress, moving on from what happened with Joe - that’s not for me to say either, is it? That’s for your therapist to chat to you about, probably.”

“You git, I’m just asking a simple question than any decent friend would be able to - ”

“Let me finish.” She went quiet, and he pulled up outside his house, parking the car before he continued. “If you’re asking me if I think you seem happier, if you’re quicker to laugh these days, if you seem less exhausted, if you’re calmer at work, if you talk about how much better Tom’s been lately, then yes, to those things. If those things add up to you being ready to...meet someone new, then, well, yes. Maybe you are.”

He waited for her response but she just sat there chewing her bottom lip, so, while he was on a roll, he added, “Also, you look very nice tonight.” He nodded at her, as though to say, “there, see, I can be a decent friend.”

“Hardy - ” She glanced out of the window. “Wait, I thought you were dropping me off?”

“What? Oh.” He hadn’t been concentrating, had driven them home to his without thinking about it. “Do you want a cuppa?”

She nodded slowly. “All right.”

::

He sat the mug of tea down on the table in front of her and she smiled at it.

“What?”

“Nothing. You make a good cuppa, that’s all. Strong, but good.”

“I can’t stand weak tea.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“I’ll be back in a mo. Just gonna check in on Daisy.”

Daisy’s light was still on when he reached her bedroom, so he knocked gently and opened the door a nudge. “You all right, darling?”

She was in bed with her laptop, and looked up at him with a sleepy smile, taking out her earphones to reply. “Yeah. Did you have fun at the party?”

He gave her a look. “What do you think?”

“You’re such a grumpy old man,” she teased.

“Oi, less of the old. Anyway, school night; you should get some sleep.”

“I just want to finish this episode...”

“What you watching?”

“Just something on Netflix.”

“How much left?”

“Ten minutes.”

“All right. Light and laptop off after that.”

“Promise.” She smiled at him, and put her earphones back in.

“Oh, Daisy?”

Impatiently, she took one out again. “Yes?”

“Miller’s come back for a cup of tea. She won’t stay long.”

“Right, course she won’t,” Daisy said, rolling her eyes with a smirk.

“What’s that look for?”

“She’s always round here, ‘looking over the case’ with you late at night. It’s all right, I don’t mind. I like her. And like, I’m not a kid, Dad, you don’t have to hide it from me.”

“Hide what?”

“Your...thing.” She waved her hand about. “With Ellie.”

“My - my what?” He opened her door all the way and spluttered at her, “I don’t know what you think is going on, but - well, there isn’t anything going on, at all, so. You can stop thinking it. Whatever it is.”

Daisy looked surprised. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Seriously.” He sniffed. “You’ve been watching too much telly.”

“Maybe I have,” Daisy laughed. “But _you_ talk about her all the time.”

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“Oh, be quiet, no I don’t.”

“Whatever you say, Dad.”

He glared at her playfully, and started to close her door.

“FYI, even Mum noticed it.”

He came back into her room again. “No she didn’t.”

“She did, she told me! In one of her many phone calls, trying to persuade me to go back and live with her. Said you’d be playing happy families with Ellie before I knew it and I’d be pushed out.”

“She shouldn’t have said that.” He sat down on the edge of Daisy’s bed and put his hand over hers. She gave him a funny look. “What?” he asked.

“Don’t get all soppy,” she warned him.

“You’re my family, Daize. You.” He squeezed her hand.

“Dad. Ellie dropped me and Chlo off at Nando’s the other day. We made fun of you and she lent me a tenner ‘cos I forgot my purse. She’s nice. You have my blessing, or whatever.”

He stared at her. “What, when was this?”

“Last week. You were busy, I was round Chloe’s, Ellie was dropping Fred off ‘cos Beth was babysitting him or something. We were gonna get the bus into town, Ellie was driving that way anyway, so.”

“She never said anything.”

“She probably did, you probably forgot to listen ‘cos you were too busy thinking about how much you fancy her.”

Hardy burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah, that’ll be it.” He stood up, shaking his head, bemused by the whole thing. “I don’t fancy Miller.”

Daisy smiled at him. “Tell that to your face next time you look at her,” she said; her parting shot as she popped her earphone back into her ear.

He grumbled under his breath about know-it-all teenagers as he wished her goodnight and left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

When Hardy returned to the living room, Miller had moved from the dining table and made herself comfy on the sofa, boots and coat off and legs tucked under her as she leafed through one of Daisy’s magazines from the coffee table. 

Every few seconds, her hair would fall in front of her face, and she’d impatiently tuck it behind her ear again. She still wasn’t used to having it so long. Sometimes, when she showed up at his door late in the evening, all windswept from her walk, she would get it caught in that daft orange coat as she wrestled it off in his doorway, and he’d laugh at her, and she’d mumble that was the only time she amused him: when she was embarrassing herself. Which was not true, at all, but he let her believe it.

He let her believe a lot of things, assumptions she’d made that he’d just...let be; the reasons for him leaving and the reasons why he came back. Why this place, this stupid, bloody place - where everyone knew each other’s business and granules of sand appeared on his floor every single day, no matter if he’d been wandering by the beach or not - felt more like home to him than anywhere he’d lived for a long time.

There were plenty of things left unsaid between them. As irritating as her probing into his love life, or lack thereof, tonight had been, he supposed he could understand why she wanted a different conversation than their usual end-of-day chat: “Have you eaten?”/ “No.”/ “Want a scotch egg?” / _“No.”_

She looked up at him as he neared, and tossed the magazine aside. “All right?”

“Mmhmm.”

Her smile faded. “Is Daisy okay? You look like you’ve had a fright.”

“She’s fine.”

“Your tea’s getting cold.”

He sat down at the other end of the sofa, and gave his tea a cursory glance. Then, he twisted in his seat to face her, resting his arm along the back of the sofa. “Miller.”

“Yeah?”

“This’ll make you laugh.”

“Ooh, go on, I could use some more gossip. Has Daisy set your profile up on Grindr, this time?”

He frowned. “What’s that?”

She snickered. “Never mind. Carry on.”

“Right.” Hardy paused.

Miller reached for her tea, and settled back against the cushions. “Well, go on then, don’t keep me in suspense.”

“Daisy thought - ” He started to smile. Miller put her mug back on the table, sat up again, and tucked her hair behind her ear just as she untucked her legs. He watched her fidget for a moment, half-smile still on his face.

“Pins and needles,” she explained, with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

He cleared his throat and changed course slightly. “Daisy thought I’d brought someone back from the party,” he said. “She heard me talking to someone and thought…”

Miller grinned. “That you’d successfully navigated small talk and flirting for once in your life, and picked someone up?”

Hardy swallowed. “Exactly. Funny, hmm?”

“Very.”

“Yeah.”

Miller pulled one of the cushions into her lap and hugged it. “Seeing as we’ve been so honest tonight...”

“Oh, good grief. What do you want to talk about now?” he asked, trying to mask his nervousness with irritation. He fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt, then rolled his sleeves up to his elbows for something to do.

“It’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you about for a while, to be honest.”

“Okay...?”

She took in a deep breath, then said bluntly, “You’ve been different since you came back.”

Hardy hadn’t seen that one coming. “Compared to when?”

“Compared to before. With the trial, and Sandbrook.”

“Different how?”

“I dunno. Distant.”

Hardy furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Before, you used to - I don’t know. Reach out to me, a bit, when I was upset. Now you just sort of brush it off.”

“Oh.”

Miller shrugged a shoulder. “Doesn’t bother me,” she added quickly, which was clearly a lie, or else she wouldn’t have brought it up. “Just wondered why, that’s all.”

“Well.” He scratched at the back of his head for a second, trying to figure out how to go about answering her, then blew out a long breath to stall for more time. “I suppose it’s because...”

“Mm?” she said offhandedly; but her eyes were eager, belying the calm detachment in her voice.

“You want me to be honest.”

“Yes.”

“All right. Before, every time I tried to comfort you, you’d flinch. So I backed off. Realised that wasn’t what you needed, not from me at least.”

“Oh.”

“Come on, admit it - if I tried to hug you, I’d be at risk of a knee to the balls.”

Miller smiled, but looked like she resented it. “It felt weird, then.”

“And it wouldn’t now?”

“No. Yes. But it also feels weird that you’ve stopped.”

“Well, can’t really win then, can I?”

“Nope.” She smiled at him properly now. “S’pose not. Sorry.”

“Right.”

Miller picked up her mug and drank the last of her tea, then focussed her gaze on it, tracing the stripes with one finger. “I’ve made you feel awkward,” she guessed, taking a quick glance at him.

“Yeah, well, I’m used to it.”

“Sorry,” she said again. 

“You don’t need to...” he trailed off, and sighed. “Miller - ”

“It’s getting late. I should probably make a move - I expect Dad’s let Tom stay up far too late again. Keeps doing that.” She set the mug, her mug, the mug she always used when she came here to drink his tea, back on the coffee table.

“How is it, your dad living with you these days? Getting any easier?”

“No. But he is very useful now that Luce has gone off to Australia. Wasn’t sure how I was gonna manage at first, with the kids and the job and everything.”

Hardy shook his head. “You’d figure it out. You always do.” She looked at him, then, and he saw how grateful she was for those simple words and it surprised him. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing.” She glanced at the clock, reiterating her point. “Okay, better get going. I need to cut down on these late nights, haven’t even been home in time for dinner with the kids _once_ this week.”

That made him feel guilty. “Sorry, I suppose I’ve kept you at the station all caught up in the case...you should just tell me to bugger off and let you go home.”

“Oh, I intend to.”

“Good.”

“I’m not sure what Dad’s been feeding them, but Fred’s been a bit hyper lately.”

“I’m sure whatever it is, it’s at least more nutritious than the junk you’ve been eating.”

“Oi!” She chucked the cushion she’d been holding at him.

“I should cook you lot something one night. Make sure you get some vegetables in your life for a change.”

Miller laughed. “You what? You want to cook dinner for me and the boys?”

“Don’t you think I could?”

“Honestly, I never expected you to return the gesture. Still, better late than never.”

“What? What gesture?”

“Don’t you remember, we invited you for dinner. Back before...” Her smile faded slightly, but she shook off the melancholy and continued, “Anyway, didn’t think I’d get an invite back. And my kids, too! Blimey. You have changed.”

“Yeah, well, seems like something I ought to do now and then.” He shrugged, suddenly regretting the offer but wanting to justify himself all the same, “Besides. I haven’t seen Fred in a while. Or Tom. And Daisy would probably enjoy having some guests.”

“I doubt that,” Miller replied. “Tom and Daisy are teenagers! They won’t want to come to a boring dinner where we just talk shop all night.”

“We’ve not talked about work too much tonight.”

“I don’t think talking about our dating exploits would be good topics for them, either,” she pointed out.

“Fine, whatever, it was just an idea.”

“Oh, don’t get grumpy about it - I’ll come to dinner if you want. I’ll bring Fred, leave Tom at home with his xbox, how’s that?”

“Nah, I’ve uninvited you, you took too long to agree.”

“How does tomorrow sound? It’ll be a nice Friday night treat. We’ll clock off early and you can show me what you’ve got, I want the table laid out properly and everything, proper dinner party style - ”

“It’s not happening, you missed your chance.”

“Oh, go on, I’m intrigued now. What’s your specialty?”

He relented. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Can you actually cook?”

“Yes.”

“It won’t just be a salad, right?”

“I’ve learnt by now that that won’t cut it with you, Miller.”

“Good.”

“Right. That’s that sorted, then.”

“Yep,” she said, cheerily. “I’ll pop it in my diary.”

He indulged that comment with a small quirk of his lips, then asked, “Are you gonna go, then?”

“What?”

He gestured at the time. “You just said you were leaving.”

“How can you go from inviting me to dinner to kicking me out in the space of three minutes?”

“I’m not kicking you out, I’m just pointing out that you said you were going but you haven’t moved an inch.”

“Because you kept talking!”

“Well, now I’ve stopped.”

“I’ll go if you want me to go - ”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m telling you to shove off - ”

“Well, that’s what it does sound like.”

“I’m not. I don’t - oh, stay as long as you like. I just thought you wanted to get home to see Tom.”

“He should be asleep by now anyway.”

“Right,” he said, but he was a bit confused, because it seemed like she wanted to stay and he wasn’t sure why she’d had a change of heart. Or perhaps she hadn’t wanted to leave earlier, either.

“Hardy, can I tell you something?”

“Blimey, what now?”

“I’ve been feeling a bit…” She wrinkled her nose in thought. “Weird, lately.”

“In what way?” He paused, then asked, alarmed, “You’re not ill?”

“No, nothing like that,” she said, shaking her head with a laugh. “No, it’s just sort of…”

“Sort of what?”

“I’m not sure how to explain it.” She was watching him carefully. “It’s like how you were saying, earlier, about wanting to jump right to the middle of something without bothering with all the uncertain early stuff.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I was thinking about the people in my life who - well, who - ” She tilted her head. “Who I’ve known long enough for something like that.”

“I knew it. You’re running away with Dirty Brian,” he deadpanned.

“Hardy. When are you gonna let that joke die?”

“Oh, probably quite soon, now that he’s left.”

“Good.”

“Go on, then. Who’s the main candidate?”

Miller wrinkled her nose again. “It’s a limited field. Bear that in mind.”

“Aye.”

“Broadchurch is a small town.”

“It is.”

She sighed heavily. “Hardy, we’re gonna have to get married.”

He stared at her in shock for several seconds. Mouth dry, he murmured, “Ellie - ”

Miller burst out laughing. “Oh, your face!”

Hardy groaned. “Why would you do that?”

“Did you think I was serious? You did, didn’t you? Just for a second?” She continued to laugh. He felt quite put out.

“You know I’ve got a dodgy heart, you shouldn’t say such alarming things - ”

She wiped at her eyes. “I love how for a minute there you actually thought I was proposing. Admit it, you did.”

“Bloody unromantic proposal,” he pointed out. “And veering much too close to ‘oh, if you were the last man on Earth, maybe.’”

“Well, if you _were_ the last man on Earth, then, sure,” she granted amiably.

“Nice, thanks for that.”

“Would you, then? If I was the last woman?”

“Would I marry you?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No, would you have sex with me?”

“How many whiskies did you have tonight?”

“Just two; I’m not drunk, and don’t dodge the question.”

“Fine, yes, whatever.”

“That’s a bit of a cop out answer.”

“It’s a bit of a cop out question.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s moot, isn’t it? Never gonna happen. There is never gonna be a feasible apocalyptic situation where you and I are the last ones standing."

“God, you suck the fun out of everything. I wasn’t trying to be logical.”

“What I’m saying is, there are more realistic ways of framing the 'would you sleep with...’ question.”

“What’re you on about?”

His lips quirked up as he implemented his revenge, “For example, would you have sex with Brian for a scotch egg?”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“You think you’re so funny.”

“I don’t, actually. But you’re smiling.”

“I’m not smiling.”

“You are, but I’ll let it slide.”

“What I want to know is, why are you so preoccupied with whether or not I want to sleep with Brian?”

“I’m not.”

“Do you have a crush on him?”

“I do not,” he answered, emphatically.

“You’d better tell him quick, before he moves to Torquay.”

“Hardly the other side of the world, I’m sure I’ll cope.”

They shared a small smile, and he considered, not for the first time, how easy it was to trade insults and quips with Miller; how easy it was to be in her company, full stop, even when she was trying to blindside him by declaring her feigned interest in him.

“Daisy thinks we’re sleeping together,” he blurted out, caught up in the flow of their casual conversation, and he immediately regretted it.

Miller’s mouth dropped open. “She what?”

“Did you drop her off at Nando’s the other day?”

“Yes, I did, I told you that when I got back to the station.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, but don’t deflect, what did you just say? She thinks we’re - ”

“Don’t worry, I told her she was being ridiculous.”

“First Lucy, now Daisy?” Miller shook her head. “What is it with our relatives?”

“What do you mean, ‘first Lucy?’”

“Oh, she wanted to know if Joe’s defense lawyers had hit the nail on the head, back when they accused us of having an affair.” His eyes widened, and seeing this, she echoed his words, “It’s all right, I told her it was a load of rubbish.”

“Right, yes.”

“‘Cos it was, wasn’t it.”

“Yeah.”

“And like you said, it’s ridiculous. Still. It’s still...ridiculous.”

He was curious about the way she was repeating herself, but wisely didn’t call her out on it. “Yes.”

“Because that would never happen,” she stated, catching his eye, and looking at him as though seeking confirmation, “We would never...” 

“No.”

“Unless the world has gone to shit and we’re the last humans alive.”

“Yes.”

“Or unless we were very drunk,” she laughed lightly, “Which wouldn’t happen, because you barely take three sips of your beer, when you drink any at all.”

“Yeah.”

They fell silent. He held her gaze for several seconds, after which he became uncomfortable with the way his pulse rate was increasing, and so he stood abruptly, announcing, “I’m gonna make another tea, seeing as that one’s gone cold and you wince whenever I heat one up in the microwave. D’you want another?”

“Oh, go on then, ta.” She picked up her mug and handed it to him, and he headed to the kitchen.

After putting the kettle on and distributing the teabags and sugar, he put his hands on the edge of the counter and closed his eyes for a minute, letting out a long, shaky breath.

He heard Miller sneak in behind him. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

“Course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Her hand touched his back and he jolted a bit in surprise; the warmth of her palm, the light pressure she probably only intended to exert to get his attention, to urge him to turn and look at her, rather than anything else, but it was new, and different, and it confused and infuriated him that he wished she would do that more often, because why on earth did he want Ellie Miller to touch his back, for Christ’s sake -

“Hardy, look at me a sec.”

He turned around, and her hand dropped to her side.

“I didn’t mean to freak you out,” she said, giving him a careful look.

Hardy folded his arms and shrugged one shoulder. “You didn’t.”

Miller nodded slowly, looking a bit confused. Her voice went very quiet when she next spoke. “Are there any other...situations, do you think? Where we’d...”

His first thought was that she was winding him up again, pulling his leg, but she suddenly looked so serious and unsure.

“What are you asking, exactly?” he murmured.

“I wasn’t really lying, before, when I said I’d been feeling weird.” She must have sensed his alarm again because she quickly added, chuckling, “Don’t panic, I don’t really want to marry you, that bit was a joke, but.” She laughed nervously, fiddling with the hem of her top. “I feel lonely, a lot of the time, but I don’t when I’m with you. I feel...different. There, I’ve said it. Don’t laugh.”

He was most definitely not going to laugh at her, not about this. “Different how?”

She didn’t answer for a few moments, her gaze flitting from his to around the kitchen, then back to him again. “I don’t get it, I don’t know why, but it’s, it’s - ” She let out a deep sigh. “I can’t explain it. I’m not gonna say it out loud.”

Hardy unfolded his arms and took a step forward, glad that he was still actually able to move; his limbs had gone a bit numb with her little speech. “I’m not very good at picking up signals, Miller. If you’re not gonna tell me, then at least show me what on earth you’re going on about.”

He watched her swallow, watched her eyes drop to his lips, and his hands twitched with the urge to place them at her waist. But he waited, and then she reached out for his tie, and used it to pull him towards her, angling her head so that her lips could touch his. They stayed that way for a moment, his eyes fluttering closed, their noses brushing. She didn’t deepen the kiss, didn’t even seem to be breathing, because when she let him go she took in a gasp of breath.

They stared at one another. Miller looked embarrassed. “Sorry.”

He shook his head slightly, and his hands gave in, venturing to her waist and pulling her in close again. As he pressed his lips back to hers, he felt her fingers reach up and run through his hair, keeping him there as her mouth opened beneath his. This kiss was deeper, and longer, and by the time they pulled back for the second time, they were both panting softly.

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Because we work together, and you’re sort of my boss,” she agreed. “And I’m Miller and you’re Hardy and this is weird.”

“Yes.” He sighed, and admitted, “And also because I had just about convinced myself that I wasn’t interested.” He slipped his arms around her more fully. “It’s been a long process. I was just starting to make progress.”

She leant back to look at him, and he opened his eyes at her movement.

“What?” she asked, looking shocked.

“All right, fine, the progress was pretty minimal - ”

“Do you have feelings for me?” she asked next, blunt and to the point as ever.

He groaned. “Miller.”

“I’m just asking!”

“Are you asking just to take the piss?”

She poked him in the chest. "For God’s sake, Hardy. I’m not that mean.”

He half-smiled at her. “Are you going to stay here tonight?”

“Are you inviting me?”

“Yes.”

“All right. I’ll have to call Dad.”

“I’m gonna kiss you again, first.”

“Mmhmm.”

This time, he cupped her jaw in his hand to draw her mouth to his, and tried to be a bit more suave about it. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded on that front, but she kissed him back less tentatively, too, and it was clear that they didn’t really need any more words to tell one another where this was going. Her hands slid across his chest, and his free one journeyed beneath the hem of her blouse, touching her lower back.

At some point, he found himself back against the counter again, because Miller was pushing him into it. She fiddled with his shirt buttons, opening a few of them before realising he still had his tie on, and so she clumsily went about taking that off first. He felt her loosen it, then slide it out from under his collar, then let it fall to the floor.

It was at that point that Hardy realised he wanted them to relocate, because as lovely and passionate as snogging Ellie Miller was, he was not prepared to let them do unspeakable things in his kitchen. He was not quite that adventurous.

Somewhere between the kitchen and his bedroom, Miller paused their activities to let her father know she would be home in the morning, and Hardy lost his nerve a little. He stood in the doorway waiting for her, trying to calm his racing heart.

Finished with her call, she tossed her mobile back onto the sofa, and didn’t say anything until she reached him. “Hardy, are you...are you sure?”

Hardy took a moment to just look at her, her dark eyes and the waves of her hair and the nervous quirk of her smile. He reached for her, smoothing his hand along her arm to find her hand.

“Yes,” he said simply. “You?”

“Yeah, I am.”

His heart settled. “Good.”

::

Hardy woke up early the next morning to find Miller getting dressed in the dim light of the bedside lamp.

“What are you doing?” he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

She jumped a bit, though he hadn’t spoken loudly, and looked a bit guilty when she turned to him, one leg in her jeans. “I can’t show up to work in last night’s clothes. Need to go home and get changed.”

“Were you gonna sneak off?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched her continue getting dressed.

“Didn’t want to wake you, seemed like you needed some sleep.”

“So you were going to do the walk of shame all the way back to your house in the early morning sun?”

“Thought about hot-wiring your car but I realised you might be a bit miffed if I did that.”

He laughed and threw back the duvet. “I’ll take you home.”

“It’s okay, you don’t - ” She paused for a second, a noticeable second, as she watched him get up, naked, and head to his chest of drawers, “ - have to.”

“I don’t mind.”

He was putting his pants on when she blurted out, “We had sex.”

“Yes, I know. I was there,” he replied, a little resentful that she sounded so surprised.

“No, it’s just...” She shrugged. “Never expected us to end up like this, that’s all. What’re you - are those _jeans?”_

Hardy looked down. “Yes?”

“You never wear jeans.”

He pulled a jumper over his head. “I’m only dropping you off, no one’s going to see me.” 

“You don’t even wear jeans around your house! You don’t even seem to wear pjs, I’ve turned up here at 2am on a Saturday morning to see you still in your suit! And now you’re wearing _jeans?”_

He waited patiently for her to finish. “What’s got into you, why are you having a nervous breakdown over me owning a pair of jeans?”

“What’s got into me? What’s got into you - ”

He closed the distance between them and placed his hands gently on her upper arms, and looked into her eyes as he spoke, low and serious, “Do you regret it?”

Miller sighed. “I’m being weird, aren’t I?”

“Little bit, yeah.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s all right. I’m glad it’s you losing it and not me, for a change. I’ll be able to lord this over you for weeks.”

She smiled at him half-heartedly, but she still hadn’t answered his question.

“Do you, then?” He swallowed hard. “You can tell me the truth.”

“No, I don’t regret it.”

His hands slid down her arms and found hers, giving them a squeeze. “Sure?”

Miller squeezed back. “Yeah. Think I’m just nervous. I mean, you know - what happens now?”

“Let’s get a cuppa and a slice of toast. It’s far too early to be having proper conversations, anyway - ”

She pulled him back when he moved towards the door. “No, but Hardy, I mean it. Because I don’t want things to change...except for, well, some, er, some things...so, I’m asking you, what do you think happens now?”

Hardy looked at her for a few moments, his eyes searching hers. He kept his voice steady as he answered, trying not to sound too nervous himself, “Same as always, really, go to work, solve the case. But - remember you’re coming here for dinner tonight. You’re not getting out of that.”

“And...” 

He scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well. As we were discussing before, I don’t really do...what we did last night. Casually, I mean. So.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“So, we’ll...”

“Do that again sometime?” she prompted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, if you want.”

He nodded. “Yes. I - yes.”

“Okay.” They nodded at each other again, and she laughed. “Okay, good. Breakfast?”

::

In the kitchen, as he sipped at his tea and watched her devour three slices of buttered toast, something occurred to him.

“Miller, you aren’t going to…”

“Tell anyone at work?” she guessed.

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Right. Good. Probably best we keep it quiet.”

“I’ll have to tell Tom eventually, though. And you, Daisy. We we can’t keep them in the dark.”

“Yes, of course.” For a moment, he wondered about how smug Daisy was going to be when he confessed. And then he thought about what she’d said about Tess, who had seemingly guessed his feelings towards Miller before Miller herself was even aware of them.

“Hardy?”

“Mmm?”

“You are here to stay. Right? Because if someday you’re gonna just get in a taxi and leave Broadchurch - ”

“I’m not going to leave.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t tell anyone I said this, but you know...this place isn’t so bad.”

Miller raised her eyebrows and grinned. “There you go again, being all surprising.”

“Eh?”

“You know, wearing jeans, being really good at sex, complimenting Broadchurch - if backhandedly.”

There wasn’t anything he could do about the smile that came to his face at that, hard as he tried to stay elusive. “Sorry, hold on, go back a step, did you just say - ”

Her cheeks were red but she didn’t sound embarrassed by her comment as she confirmed, “Might’ve done.”

Then, he frowned. “Oi, wait, why was that so surprising?”

She gave him a look.

“No, all right, fair point,” he conceded, and smiled again, deciding he’d rather be chuffed about it than dwell on the implicit insult.

“Shame I can’t tell anyone, that would really give everyone at work a laugh.”

“Thanks very much.”

“What with your heart condition and everything, I really wasn’t expecting - ”

“It’s not a condition, and all right, I think you’ve made your point!”

The grin on her face was so cheeky that it almost made him want to lean over the table and kiss her, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.

“If I didn’t have to get home to change, I’d almost suggest - ”

“Morning,” mumbled Daisy, as she stumbled tiredly into the kitchen and went straight for the fridge.

Hardy froze, feeling his face and neck heat up, and with one look at Miller he saw that she was flushing too. “Morning,” he said carefully, wondering when Daisy would notice.

But when Daisy turned to face him, she didn’t even bat an eyelid at seeing Miller sitting there with him. “Oh, there it is, can I just grab that,” she said, and came over to them for the butter. She returned to the counter with it, sticking some bread in the toaster, and yawned loudly.

Miller still hadn’t found her voice, so Hardy cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “You’re up early.”

“Yeah, got a bit left to write on an essay that’s due in.” She pulled a face, clearly resenting having to get up for that. “Gave up on the conclusion last night. Regret that, now.”

“Ah, I see.” He glanced at Miller, who still looked like she was trying to pretend she was invisible. “Um, I’m just going to quickly take Miller home and then I’ll be back to get ready for work. I can drop you off at school on my way to the station, if you like?”

“Yeah, ta, Dad,” she said, distracted by the toast as it popped.

“Right, good.” He nudged Miller’s knee with his under the table. “Come on, then, shall we make a move?” He gestured towards the kitchen door.

“Hmm? Oh, right, yeah.” She stood, fidgeting with the hem of her top. “Um, bye, Daisy.”

Daisy smiled at her, and Hardy’s shoulders lost some of their tension. “Bye Ellie. See you tonight.”

Miller tilted her head to the side, curious. “Oh, did your Dad already mention about the dinner?”

“Sorry?”

Miller looked between them, and Hardy shook his head; he’d not spoken to Daisy about it, so she probably just assumed Miller would be there because she was there so often of an evening. Perhaps it hadn’t been so unreasonable for Daisy to assume what she did last night, after all.

Miller continued, “Oh, it’s just, you said see you tonight, I assumed you already knew - Hardy reckons he’s gonna cook a meal for us all.”

“You don’t have to eat with us, Miller isn’t sure Tom will be coming,” Hardy added, mindful of Miller’s point about teenagers not wanting to hang out with them.

Daisy laughed. “I don’t mind if you two want to be alone.”

“It’s nothing like that,” Miller said, shaking her head quickly.

“Wee Fred will be there.”

“All right, if you want me to come,” Daisy shrugged, clearly unbothered either way, but it seemed to make Miller happy, because she left the kitchen smiling.

“Daisy,” he murmured, when Miller was out of earshot, “I know what this looks like - ”

“You didn’t have to lie to me last night, Dad,” she said, through a mouthful of toast. “I told you I didn’t mind.”

“I wasn’t lying. Honestly.” He ran a hand through his hair, unprepared for this sort of conversation with his daughter. “Things only just sort of...changed.”

Daisy’s eyes widened. “Oh. Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it was gonna happen sooner or later.”

“Do you have to sound so...”

“So what?”

“Beyond your years.”

“Whatever,” Daisy laughed. “I’ve got an essay to finish. Don’t keep Ellie waiting.” 

He heard her mutter, “Any longer than she already has,” under her breath as she took her plate over to the kitchen table.

Privately, he liked that Daisy was so adamant about him and Miller being together; it gave him confidence that this thing that was happening with them wasn’t so weird after all, that it was real, that it would last.

When he entered the living room and saw Miller at the open door, coat on and bag on her shoulder, he said, “That was easier than I expected.”

Miller agreed, looking very relieved. “Not sure Tom will take it quite so well.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Yeah.”

“Miller?”

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t kissed you yet, this morning.”

“Oh, did you want to?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

She gave him a quick kiss then went outside to the car. “Come on, sooner you sneak me home, sooner we get to sneak about at work.”

“I’m not kissing you at work.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

They got in the car. “I won’t,” he insisted. “It’s unprofessional.”

“You just watch, I’ll crack this case of ours and you’ll be so overwhelmed and impressed, you’ll not be able to help yourself.”

“That’s ridiculous, I’ve managed to restrain myself previously, haven’t I?”

“Only ‘cos you thought I’d knee you in the balls if you even tried.”

He sniffed, and turned the key in the ignition. “Fair point.”


End file.
